


Patience

by FestiveFerret, SirSapling



Series: Art is Long and Life is Short [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Art, Artist Steve Rogers, Bottom Steve Rogers, Cockwarming, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Possessive!Tony, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Skinny!Steve, Steve Loves the Arc Reactor, armour kink, tony is still iron man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 19:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirSapling/pseuds/SirSapling
Summary: Try as he might, Steve just couldn't seem to paint the arc reactor quite right. And it was driving him crazy.





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

> This is a smutty insert before we dive into the second book of Art is Long, Life is Short. It's not vital to read this, plotwise, but it speaks to some of the kinky things they play with later. Enjoy!

Steve swooped his brush through the blobs of blue paint, mixing them together on his palette, then working in a little white in one corner and a little black in the other, testing. He frowned. It wasn’t quite right… He started spreading paint onto the canvas anyway, figuring he could layer over it to get the effect he wanted, but the more he worked the deeper his frown twisted. 

Steve adored the arc reactor. Tony described it as a “terrible privilege,” and Steve knew it wasn’t all easy. He knew about the blood poisoning and the terrifying dependence on a machine that could be removed. He knew Tony woke up in the night sometimes, sweaty and choking, hands scrabbling against the ghosts of gauze and wires on his chest. But to Steve, the arc reactor was Tony’s centre, his power, his heart. It was safety and home. And it was so, so beautiful.

But he couldn’t get it right.

He knew exactly how it looked, how it felt to brush his fingers over it. He touched it constantly, framed it with his fingers, stroked his palm over the casing, made a mess of it, then licked it clean. Tony had taken it out, taken it  _ apart,  _ let Steve see how it worked and what to do if it didn’t. He knew it intimately. 

He tossed his brush down with a sigh. He knew the arc reactor, and this wasn’t it. This was flat, uninteresting, dull. Tony  _ glowed. _

Steve rubbed his hand through his hair, then over his tired eyes, surely getting paint everywhere but not caring. It was late, or at least it felt like it was getting late, but this time of year, when the sun dropped low too fast, that didn’t mean much. 

Steve looked up at the canvas. Nope. Not right. He was going to have to start again. He cleaned his brushes and set them drying in their rack, put his paints away and shoved the unfinished arc reactor into the corner to dry. He could paint over it, try again. Tony hated it when he painted over things, but sometimes it just didn’t work and he didn’t want a reminder of his failure staring at him from a stack of abandoned paintings while he tried to do better. Sometimes art just sucked and you had to let it go. 

Thoughts of Tony pulled him out of studio and into the adjacent workshop. Tony kept the studio warm, but the workshop cool, and the blast of chilly air had Steve rubbing his palms over his arms. 

Tony was at his desk, leaned back in his chair, his fingers dancing over his special keyboard, processing information at lightspeed. Steve could watch him work all day. He padded across the workshop and pressed a kiss to the soft, warm skin under Tony’s ear. Tony startled them hummed, tipping his head to the side to give Steve better access. Steve took advantage of it, brushing his lips along the the curve of Tony’s neck and breathing him in. He hooked a hand over Tony’s shoulder and wormed it under the collar of his t-shirt. Tony smiled, but kept typing. Steve traced the edge of the arc reactor with one finger then cupped his hand around it, capturing a handful of the light.  

“What is it about this…?” he murmured.

Tony tipped his head back and caught Steve’s eyes, his fingers still tapping away. “Hmm?”

“Nothing.” Steve kissed him, then spun around Tony’s chair to sit in his lap, leaning against his chest. Tony’s fingers finally stopped their dance, his arms wrapping around Steve’s waist and holding him close. “How’s work?”

“Good. I’m hoping to have the tower on arc reactor power in the next couple months. The tech is well on track, just waiting for the physical stuff now, really. Getting too old to take a sledgehammer to the basement myself.” Tony’s fingers snuck under the hem of Steve’s sweater.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Well… if you’re getting too far on for a little action…” He shifted on Tony’s lap. “Wouldn’t want to wear you out old man.”

Tony’s hands clenched on Steve’s waist and his eyes darkened. His smile twisted, dirty and teasing. He reached up and twined his fingers into Steve’s shirt, pulling him close, then nipped at his lip. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re trying to goad me.” He flicked his tongue out against Steve’s lips. “You wanted to wait.”

Steve shifted on Tony’s lap again, holding back a moan. “I was going to paint, but it’s not happening. My muse is being a jerk.” 

“Mmm.” Tony’s hands kept wandering. One slipped up the back of Steve’s sweater while the other teased down under the back of his waistband. “But…” He pulled Steve in for another filthy kiss. “I still have to work, love.” His hand slipped lower, pushing past the band of Steve’s pants and into his boxers. He cupped Steve’s ass and squeezed lightly. 

Steve bit his lip, sensation rolling up his spine. “How - how long?”

“At least half an hour.” Tony’s fingers brushed the crease of Steve’s ass, finding the flat disc of plastic and pressing against it until Steve moaned and his hips kicked forward. He’d been able to ignore it, let the feeling become background instead of all-consuming, but with Tony’s hands on him, it rocketed to the forefront again. He was full and stretched by the plug, but not as much as he’d like.

“I want more.” He shifted around to straddle Tony’s lap, pressing their hips together. He was hard, and he could feel Tony was too. “Mmm, fuck me now, work later.”

“Babe…” Tony’s hands continued to wander, then they stilled. “Cali offices close in an hour. I have to get this in.” A cheeky grin flitted across his face. “You’ll have to wait.”

Steve slumped down over Tony’s chest with a sigh. He felt twitchy and unsettled. They’d done this kind of thing before, Steve wearing the plug while they went about their day so Tony could just slide in as soon as he was ready, but this time it wasn’t sitting right with Steve. Not that the plug was uncomfortable, it was perfect. Tony had spent a fortune on the most luxurious sex toys money could buy the second Steve had admitted that the simple, silicone plug he’d worn for their first night as a committed couple was the only toy he had - and had been a better friend than his hand while he was single. And Steve adored this one. He loved the way it felt, seated deep inside him, he loved the way he could feel it when he moved, and he loved the awed look he knew he’d see on Tony’s face when he pulled it free and replaced it with his cock.

But tonight, he felt eager in a different way. It wasn’t the need for release that was tormenting him, it was something else. Not being able to replicate the reactor the way he wanted made him feel off-kilter and disconnected. He had the perfect image in his head, but his hands couldn’t seem to put it down on canvas. It felt like there was a step missing between the arc reactor he could feel pressing against his collarbone and his own hands, and he hated that. He didn’t want any missing connections between him and Tony, but that’s what he felt right now - disconnected.

Steve writhed on Tony’s lap, trying to find a position that felt close enough, but nothing did. The plug that usually lit him up with heady arousal and peaking desperation was suddenly a barrier between them. Steve didn’t care about getting off, he just needed to  _ feel  _ Tony. Now.

A small whimper slipped through his lips, and Tony looked down at him, pausing in his typing again. “Are you really that desperate, darling?” His voice was soft, and Steve knew if he said yes, Tony would miss his deadlines to take care of him.

“It’s not that…” Steve admitted. “I feel - I just -” He tugged at Tony’s shirt a little. “What if I - What if I sit very… very… still…?” He fluttered his eyelashes at Tony. “And wait very patiently?”

Tony’s eyes narrowed at Steve. “I feel like you’re suggesting something more than staying here in my lap,” he murmured.

“Yes. I want to feel you. Please? You don’t have to move. You can work. But this plug - it’s not you. I miss you. I know you’re right here, but I miss you.” He tugged at Tony’s shirt again, as if that would somehow illustrate what he meant.

“Really?” Tony actually looked uncertain, and Steve opened his mouth to backtrack, but then Tony was smiling. “I’d love to do that for you, but I’m honestly not sure I can focus with you writhing around on my cock.”

The filthy words were like an electric shock to Steve’s core and he groaned as his cock twitched even fuller. “I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll be so still. Please. If I’m too distracting you can send me upstairs and I’ll wait on the bed for you.”

Tony rumbled deep in his chest and tugged Steve in for a hard kiss, licking at the inside of his mouth as he pulled away. “I know you’ll be good. I don’t know if _ I  _ can be.” He looked at Steve for a long moment, considering. 

Steve knew it was fighting dirty, but he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, looked down at their laps then flicked his eyes back up to Tony’s. When their eyes met, he twitched one corner of his mouth up into a smirk, dropping his lip from his teeth. 

“You filthy goddamn cheat.” Tony growled. “You know exactly what that does to me. Good god, I’m so fucking hopeless for you - okay fine. But, fuck, Steve. You’d better be a goddamn angel because if you so much as twitch I’m going to have you on your back on the floor screaming my name before I’ll even know what I’m doing.”

Steve stood and started stripping off his pants in a rush.

Tony went on. “And I’ll have to explain to my stuffy, old board members that I couldn’t get my work done because my gorgeous, kinky, insatiable boyfriend couldn’t keep his perfect hands off me for half an hour.”

Steve’s breath caught at the thought. Tony’s hands grabbed at his hips and pulled him forward again so he was standing over Tony’s lap. Tony stroked his bare hips and thighs, then wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock and rolled his palm up and over the head. And his hand was so tight and  _ warm.  _ “God…”

Tony leaned forward, rucking Steve’s shirt up and pressed kisses up his belly and over his ribs. “You’re going to be good?” His hand slipped away from Steve’s cock and reached behind instead to toy with the plug again. 

Steve let his head flop back for a moment. “Yesss.” 

Tony popped his fly and pulled his cock out without taking his pants off. He guided Steve forward, then slipped the plug free, his eyes fixed on Steve’s face. Steve groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. He felt so empty and needy. He locked his knees around Tony’s hips and sunk down, dropping his weight into Tony’s capable hands and letting himself be guided down. When the head of Tony’s cock hit his rim he grabbed blindly for Tony’s shirt. He was so warm and heavy and  _ real.  _ It shouldn’t make such a difference, but it did. 

Tony groaned too as Steve suck down over him, slick and open from wearing the plug for so long. His hands travelled from Steve’s hips up to waist, then around his back as Steve settled on his lap. For a moment, they just breathed together. Then Steve tipped up and pressed a kiss to Tony’s chin. “Thank you. You feel incredible.”

Tony leaned forward and drew him fully into a kiss. Steve arched and clenched, feeling Tony shift inside him. It was hardly breaking the rules if Tony was the one moving him, right?

“Fuck…” Tony sighed, long and drawn out. Then he let out a sharp breath, his hands tightening too hard around Steve’s back for a moment. “Okay. I’m going to work and you’re going to sit. Very. Still.”

“Promise,” Steve breathed.

“Okay.” Tony shuffled his chair back up to his desk making them both whimper at the movement, then settled Steve against his chest again.

Steve shifted his feet into a comfortable position and hooked his arms over Tony’s shoulders. He could feel the rise and fall of Tony’s chest against his, and the slight, hard pressure of the arc reactor against his breastbone. He dropped his chin to Tony’s shoulder, his face buried in his neck. Tony smelled like the new aftershave Pepper had given him with a bright undertone of citrus from the two oranges he’d nibbled his way through after dinner.

Having Tony fill him up was so different from the plug. He could feel the tiny shifts in movement, the little twitches and throbs, and as he sunk into a deep, steady calm, each of those tiny movements became huge and all-consuming. It wasn’t desperate or needy or wild. It was just pleasure, soft and undulating, rolling through his body until he was easy and open and lax. He felt profoundly connected, safe and  _ owned.  _ The frantic disjointedness he’d felt before dissipated and left only calm in its wake. Steve felt like he could stay like this forever.

His mind wandered, drifting along without goal or purpose, filled with the blue glow of the arc reactor and Tony’s scent. He could hear the gentle clicking of Tony typing and feel the tiny shifts in his arms as his fingers reached for the keys. Whenever he stopped to think, Tony’s hand would land on Steve’s back, drawing lazy swirls across Steve’s skin through his sweater.

It was sweet and calm and safe and perfect here. Steve let his eyes drift shut.

“Are you asleep, love?” a soft voice rumbled in Steve’s ear, and he startled up with the sudden sense that a lot of time had passed.

“Nuh?” he tried.

Tony chuckled. “I feel like I should be offended that my cock put you to sleep, but you’re so fucking tasty when you’re all dopey, I’m finding it hard to care.”

“Mmm, no. You make me feel so good,” Steve slurred. “Not sleepy - happy, safe.”

“Well, my work is done, and now I want to make you feel even better. Or would you rather I just put you to bed?” His hips rocked up a tiny bit, as if to argue for the first option.

Steve moaned as the tiny movement was enough to send crackling pleasure jolting through his cock. “Please fuck me,” he begged.

“Alright, I’ve got you,” Tony whispered, his breath tickling the curve of Steve’s ear and sending a shiver down his spine. Tony tugged Steve down against his chest again and pressed his lips to the sensitive skin just below his ear. Steve gripped the back of Tony’s shirt and tried not to hold his breath in anticipation, worried he’d lose it completely and have to stop to find his inhaler.

Tony grabbed each of Steve’s calves and lifted until he could tuck Steve’s legs up on the chair, folded on either side of his hips. One hand settled on Steve’s lower back, the other under his thigh to help lift him up, and Tony started to move. Steve let his forehead drop onto Tony’s shoulder, all of his weight tipped forward onto Tony’s chest. His head was still fuzzy with sleep, but his body was tingling and alive.

Steve focused on nothing but the sensation, letting Tony move him, control him, feeling nothing but the way Tony’s cock pressed deep inside him and sent fireworks of pleasure bursting in his core. Tony manhandled Steve into an easy rocking rhythm, slow, but steady and so deep. 

Steve acknowledged, distantly, that his orgasm was building, low and electric. He tried to say Tony’s name, but it only came out as a worldless moan, his fingers digging into Tony’s shoulder blades as he grasped for release. Tony must have understood because a hot slick hand wrapped around Steve’s cock and stroked. Pleasure exploded inside him, and Steve squeezed his eyes shut, rocking forward shamelessly on Tony’s cock until, with a rush of tingly heat, his orgasm broke.  

Steve must have blacked out, or drifted off to some far away plaze in a haze of deep, warm pleasure, because the next thing he knew, Tony was stilling him, gripping his hips and whispering in his ear. “Oh god, I’m coming. You feel so good, Steve. Mine, my perfect - _ nugh  _ \- yes, fuck. I love you.”

He tried to reply, to tell Tony he loved him too, but he couldn’t make his mouth move. He felt sated right to his core, soft and lax and full of Tony’s pleasure. He slumped forward onto Tony’s chest, arms around his shoulders and buried his face in his neck. He was bone-deep exhausted and instantly felt sleep pull his eyes closed and his body limp.

“Thank you,” Steve managed to mutter as he drifted off. The world swooped, and he realized Tony had lifted him up - they were on their way to bed.

“Anything for you, my love.”

**

Steve almost didn’t notice Tony lying on the couch as he passed through the workshop. His mind was so completely occupied with categorizing the shades of blue pastels he had, that he had to stop and do a double take before he realized that it wasn’t just the Iron Man armour lying on the couch - Tony was in it.

Or at least, he was in part of it. Tony’s legs were bare, save for his jeans, his ankles propped up on the far arm of couch. He lay long and stretched out, but about halfway up his torso, he disappeared into the metal casing. He had the helmet on and the faceplate down. His right arm, squished between his body and the back of the couch, was uncovered, except for the shoulder plate, but his left arm hung off the edge of the couch and was completely covered in the full gauntlet. The repulsor on his left palm was glowing softly, pulsing with a slow, steady rhythm. 

Steve stopped and stood behind the couch, gazing down at Tony fondly, all thoughts of pastels abandoned. To his surprise, the arc reactor was half popped out of its casing, a series of wires disappearing from the bottom of the shoulder plates into the casing under the reactor. He didn’t like seeing the reactor loose - it was a piece of Tony and it wasn’t right having it out. He knew how bad it could be - though thankfully he’d never seen it happen - when the reactor was removed or stopped working. It had taken a long time, but Tony had told him about Obie. It still made Steve’s blood boil to think about.

He knew Tony was fine - he must have wired up the reactor himself, but he couldn’t help calling out, “Tony?”

Tony’s free hand twitched up towards his face then stilled. “Steve?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m running diagnostics on the new armour. I just installed JARVIS and it takes a while to run through all the tests. I have to lie perfectly still or I’ll mess with the calibration. It’s boring as fuck, I’m glad you’re here.” Tony waved his hand in Steve’s general direction until Steve caught it and wound their fingers together.

“Can you not see me?” Steve asked, giggling.

“Nah, the cameras are off. All I can see are the results of the diagnostics scrolling by... endlessly…”

“Fun.”

“You have no idea. What is fun, though, is you. You going to entertain me?”

“What do you want me to do? Tell you a story?” Steve joked, but even as he said it, he raked his eyes down Tony’s body and an idea started to form. 

Tony half-shrugged. “Sure. Whatever. I just like hearing your voice.”

Steve grinned as he made his way around the sofa. He sat on the floor with his back against the cushions and tipped his chin up until the top of his head pressed against Tony’s thigh. He turned to watch again, eyes caught on the uncased arc reactor. It was like seeing Tony with his insides on the outside - he was so used to it being a permanent part of him - but it was also beautiful, in a way. He got to see the reactor from a new angle, see the depth of it, the way the light changed when it was tilted down to reflect off Tony’s t-shirt. The urge to draw it wriggled into the ends of Steve’s fingertips and twitched there, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it justice. 

“You can just tell me about what you’re working on, or something,” Tony prodded, and Steve realized he hadn’t spoken in over a minute.

“Hmm, not sure that’ll be very interesting.” He rocked up onto his knees and ran a finger down Tony’s stomach. “But I thought of something else I could do with my mouth.”

“Steve.” Tony’s whole body tensed but he didn’t move. Steve popped the button on Tony’s jeans and pulled the zipper down. “Oh god, you tease,” Tony breathed out when Steve worked his rapidly hardening cock out through the front of his boxers. “Fuck, Steve.”

Steve didn’t bother teasing though, he just took Tony in his mouth and slid down until his nose was pressed against the creases in Tony’s jeans. He could feel the throb of Tony’s cock filling against his tongue. Tony’s freehand twitched over to rest on Steve’s hair. He could hear Tony’s breath going ragged, and he wondered if he could fog up the inside of the helmet without the full system air filters on.

Tony’s hand stroked through Steve’s hair encouragingly, but Steve didn’t move. Split built up in his mouth and he swallowed, but a little of it leaked around his lips and dropped down over Tony’s balls.

“Oh my god, Steve. What are you - fuck.” Tony’s fingers clenched, and Steve gave the smallest shake of his head. “Shit. You’re going to stay like that, aren’t you? Fucking torture. You’re so goddamn  _ filthy.  _ Fuck.”

Tony’s fingernails scraped across Steve’s scalp and he hummed with pleasure, his eyes squeezing shut. Steve didn’t know how long the diagnostics would take, but he would stay here until they finished or Tony broke.

He braced his arms, one over Tony’s thighs and one across his stomach. Steve tried to relax his jaw, settling into the position. Tony filled his mouth and threatened the back of his throat. He had to swallow over and over to keep spit from spilling out of his mouth, but it did anyway. And every time he swallowed, Tony grunted and his hips would kick forward ever so slightly. Steve could tell he was struggling to be still - he was shaking with the effort - but that made it even hotter. 

Steve felt used, worked over, sore already, but he was also the one in control. Tony couldn’t move, and Steve wouldn’t move. So they hung there, tightly wound pleasure spiralling around and around through both of them.

Tony’s cock twitched, and Steve tasted the salty bitterness of precome on the back of his tongue. Knowing he was having this effect on Tony sent jolts of electric arousal straight to his cock and Steve hardened painfully, trapped in his own jeans. He could drop his hand down, take care of it, but he didn’t want to, he wanted to sink into this, he wanted to capture the same feeling he got when he sat on Tony’s lap. He wanted to come when Tony came.

Steve swallowed again, then relaxed his jaw, letting his lips go slack even as spit spilled out between them. He breathed in, slow and deep, revelling in the scent of Tony, unlike anything else. He was filled, claimed, owned. Tony’s hand rested, flat and heavy, against the back of his head, not pushing or moving, but holding, trapping Steve down. 

He felt the heavy presence of the gauntlet on Tony’s other hand next to his shoulder and he wondered how different it would feel to have that hand pressing him down. Tony was already stronger than him, bigger. But in the armour… The sheer power, the strength that would be behind that hold was overwhelming.

Steve realized he had stopped breathing at the thought, and he sucked in sharply through his nose as dizziness hit. The room beyond the couch had gone fuzzy and distant, focus sharpening to just the two of them, like someone had violently adjusted the aperture of Steve’s attention. Nothing existed but Tony. Nothing mattered but Tony. And Steve was filled with him, heavy with the presence of Tony on his tongue - his smell, his taste. There was nothing else.

And Tony was speaking. “- beautiful, so perfect for me, oh god you’re so hot and wet. Steve,  _ Steve  _ \- what you do to me, fuck.”

There was a thump and Steve realized that Tony had smacked his foot against the far arm of the chair. His control was faltering, and even as Steve had the thought, Tony’s hips jerked up and he hit the back of Steve’s throat, making him cough.

He didn’t have time to swallow through it, because Tony surged up, apparently done with his diagnostics. He grabbed Steve by the back of the head with - _ fuck  _ \- with his gauntleted hand and held Steve’s mouth around his cock while he worked his way up to his feet, Steve kneeling in front of him. Steve fisted both hands in Tony’s jeans, hooking his fingers through his belt loops to give him something to hold on to. He flicked his eyes up and met Tony’s.

The faceplate had flicked open, but the rest of the pieces of armour were still on, and Steve got a thrill from the shiny red and gold looming above him. Half put together like this, Steve could imagine the bots reaching out building the rest, the pieces of Tony disappearing into metal casing and leaving Steve alone on the floor with nothing of Tony but the heavy weight of his cock on his tongue.

Tony was panting and groaning, rocking his hips to slide his cock between Steve’s lips. But Steve wanted more. He wanted to be used. He wanted to give everything to the man he loved, his hero. He wanted Iron Man to fuck his face. 

So he swallowed, relaxed his jaw further, then tugged on Tony’s pants, eyes fixed on his, until he got the message. Tony let out a soft growl that broke into a groan, then his movements increased in intensity. His hips snapped forward until his cock rammed against the back of Steve’s throat and made him gag. He focused on breathing through his nose, desperate not to end this too soon with a coughing fit. 

And then, he couldn’t feel the looming soreness in his jaw anymore, or the tightness in his throat. The was a rush of warmth through his body, and he felt easy and open. He could do this all day. He could do this for Tony, be this, this hot wet place to bring him pleasure. His own cock throbbed in the confines of his pants, and he dropped his hand from Tony’s jeans to free it, keeping the other one firmly clamped to Tony’s hip so he would know to keep going.

He moaned as he took himself in hand, the sudden touch making him realize how long he’d been waiting for it, how desperately hard he’d been since he first got Tony’s cock in his mouth. He stroked himself in time with Tony’s thrusts, letting the pleasure start on his tongue and jolt down his spine to his cock. His skin felt hot and tingly, like it was too tight, and all he needed to be free from it was the rough, needy stroke of his hand and the punishing thrusts of Tony in his mouth.

“God, you feel so good,” Tony whined. The gauntlet flexed against the back of Steve’s head and  _ god  _ the power there, the thrumming life of the repulsor that drew its charge from the arc reactor Steve loved so much. And it was right there, cupping his head, cool metal fingers winding into his hair. It was all Tony in his mouth, but it was all Iron Man holding him there, and the erotic thought of Tony using his armour to hold Steve still while he took whatever he wanted was enough to tip Steve over the edge. With a muffled cry, he came, still half in his pants, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through him, overlapping with each other until he was dizzy.

His body needed oxygen, and yearned to collapse, but Tony needed his body more, so Steve clung to him, fingers whitening where they held handfuls of Tony’s jeans, and let himself be used. Tony cursed, jerked forward, and then the unforgiving metal hand at the back of Steve’s head was pinning him in place, nose buried in Tony’s stomach as he felt hot bitter come line the back of his throat.

Tony eased back as slowly and gently as he could. Even though his jaw burned, Steve mourned the loss when Tony finally slipped free. A mix of come and spit dribbled over Steve’s chin, his mouth unable to close fast enough to catch it. His jaw finally snapped shut with a jolt of pain and an unholy crack. Tony sat on the couch, one leg on either side of Steve where he still knelt. He reached out with both hands and cupped Steve’s face, rubbing his thumbs - one flesh, one metal - over the abused joint at the crease of Steve’s jaw.

“That was incredible, you were so good. Are you okay?”

Steve nodded, not sure he could talk yet. He was still swallowing and rolling his tongue around in his mouth. Tony continued petting him until Steve sighed happily and tipped forward, tucking his face into Tony’s thigh. 

“You like that don’t you? Being still, having me inside you?”

“I love it,” Steve croaked out. He coughed and swallowed again.

“It’s not the same as the plug?” One of Tony’s hands stayed on Steve’s jaw, but the other curled up to stroke through Steve’s hair, soft, slow, steady. Steve melted into the touch. 

Steve took a minute to find both his voice and the mental power to formulate a reply. “I used to wear my plug, before. Before I knew you. But it’s not the same, not at all. It feels good, sure. But you’re warm and hard and human and  _ you.  _ I like knowing I’m bringing you pleasure too. Or that I have the capacity to bring you pleasure. I like being yours. It makes me feel… belonging. Or something.” Steve laughed as he ran out of words. The giddiness was setting in now, a rush of happy heat and energy. He still couldn’t move, but he could feel it building in him, storing, ready to burst out in a flurry of accomplishment.

“Mmm, you are mine. And you are so so good at that. It wasn’t something I thought I’d like, but… damn. I mean, I couldn’t hold out, could I?”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t make it to the end of the diagnostics,” Tony admitted.

“You didn’t?” Steve laughed.

“Nope. So now I have to start over.” Tony sighed. “Fucking worth it though.” Tony tipped Steve’s chin up to catch his eye. “Are you going to stick around? Or head to your studio?”

Steve stretched, rolled his jaw and his shoulders out, then stood. He pressed a kiss to Tony’s lips. “Studio.”

Tony drew him in for another, deeper, kiss. “Alright. Dinner tonight?”

“Absolutely. Can we get takeout and make a dent in the Netflix queue?”

Tony ran his palms over Steve’s sides, straightening his clothes. “Perfect.”

“Okay. Get back to work, mister.”

Tony grinned and stole two more kisses before Steve shoved him back down onto the couch. Tony started working his way back into the armour, and Steve went upstairs to change out of his ruined clothes. Once clean, he went back downstairs, but when he went into his studio, none of his current projects caught his eye. Tony was still lying on the couch though…

Steve grabbed one of his big newsprint sketchpads and a few oil pastels and crept back into the workshop. Tony was sprawled on the couch all long limbs and beautiful lines. Steve climbed up on the opposite arm, tucking his feet in between Tony’s legs. His jaw throbbed with a pleasant, lingering soreness and he gazed at Tony’s body, replaying the memory of what had just taken place in his mind. Tony didn’t seem to notice he was there.

Steve drew several quick sketches of Tony’s whole body - god he was so beautiful - but as always, it was the reactor that drew his attention. It was still out of Tony’s chest, lying on his shirt, looking terrifyingly exposed. Steve started working colour onto his page, blending and swirling and trying to catch the particular way the blue light glowed in the darkening room.

It was good. It was close. Tony would probably love it.

But it still wasn’t right.

**

It was starting to get ridiculous, how long Steve had been trying to recreate the arc reactor with no luck. He’d struggled with his art before, unable to take the image in his mind and get it on paper, but with enough effort he always got there eventually. Or, he’d lose interest in the project and move on. But this time, he wouldn’t - couldn’t - let it go, and no matter what he tried, it wouldn’t come out right.

The colours were too muddy, or it didn’t glow quite right, or it didn’t look right, settled in Tony’s chest. He’d tried painting it under Tony’s shirt, or with no shirt. He’d tried it on it’s own, or as part of a full-body portrait. He could draw the rest of Tony in his sleep, he knew those lines like the back of his hand, but the arc reactor was his white whale.

For the most part, he kept his struggle to himself. Tony knew he liked to use the reactor in his work, but he wasn’t aware of how intensely Steve had taken on the challenge of mastering its very particular kind of light. 

One morning in late summer, he opened a fresh sketch book and started rummaging through his art supplies. He found a package of fine-tip, coloured pens that Tony had bought him around his birthday and he’d never used. He settled in to trying a more cartoony, colour-blocky style. At the very least, this tortuous obsession had urged him to dabble in as many new styles as he could. Steve filled in one of the blue, glowing sections then sighed, unsatisfied.

There was a thump from the other room, and he stuck his head in to see Tony kicking his shoes off and starting up his computer. 

“Hey, Tony,” Steve called, setting his art down to walk over to Tony’s chair.

Tony sat down then reached out and grabbed Steve’s waist to tug him in for a kiss. Steve slotted his legs between Tony’s knees. He fit perfectly. 

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s it going?”

“Fine. I thought you were going to be in meetings all day.” Steve ran his fingers through Tony’s carefully slicked hair, sending it wild.

“I thought so too, but we wrapped things up early. I promised to shoot off about forty emails asap, though.” Tony waved his tablet, and Steve could see a checklist of items he barely understood.

Steve pouted. “So you still have to work?”

“Yeah…” Tony’s hands clenched on Steve’s hips. He flicked his eyes up and shot Steve an enticing look. “You could sit though, if you wanted.”

Steve felt Tony’s smirk rocket straight down through his stomach and into his groin. He hadn’t been horny before but now that Tony was looking up at him that way, he went from zero to sixty between heartbeats. “Really?” he breathed.

Tony tugged Steve forward until he straddled his lap, his hands slipped up under Steve’s shirt and teased their way along his spine. Steve arched into the touch, wrapping his hands behind Tony’s neck. Tony lifted Steve’s shirt and dropped his mouth to his chest, licking along his collarbone then nipping at one of his nipples. Steve gasped and shoved Tony away. “You get me all worked up and I won’t be able to sit still!”

Tony chuckled. “Alright. I assume you’re not wearing your plug, so you’d better get ready for me.”

Steve stepped back and grabbed a bottle of lube from one of the drawers of Tony’s desk. He dropped his pants and slicked his fingers. Tony leaned back in his chair and popped open his own fly. He pulled his cock out and stroked it lazily, eyes on Steve.

Steve stood just out of reach, bottom lip pinned between his teeth and slipped a slick finger back into his hole. He watched Tony’s eyes blow black with lust, his cock hardening in his hand, and a moan slipped out from between his lips. They’d had sex that morning, and Steve was still loose so it wasn’t long before he worked a second finger in, rocking them deep and spreading himself wide and open. He imagined he could still feel Tony’s come there, helping slick the way, and his cock twitched. 

Tony reached for him, and Steve stumbled forward into his arms, allowing himself to be pulled into Tony’s lap. He stood over Tony’s legs, up on his tiptoes so his fingers could continue to work his hole open, Tony spread lube over his cock, then buried his face in Steve’s chest, kissing, licking, nipping. “Tony…”

“Mmm, I’m so ready for you, baby. I can’t wait for you to slide right down on me. I want to feel that heat all around me. It’ll be all I can think about when I should be working. I wonder how long I’ll last before I can’t hold out anymore.”

_ “Tony,” _ Steve whined. It would be tight, but he didn’t care, he pulled his hand away and lined up, sliding down on Tony’s cock with a groan. He was stretched wide and full, but it was deep and right and a shudder of pleasure ricocheted up Steve’s spine.

His eyes dropped shut as he settled on Tony’s lap. He didn’t realize he was rocking back and forth, until Tony’s hands landed on his hips stilling him. Tony bit at his nipple, and Steve yelped, his eyes flying open again. “You’re supposed to be  _ still.”  _ Tony raised an eyebrow at him.

“You just feel so good.” Steve was pretty sure he could get Tony to give up on work entirely and fuck him instead, but he didn’t actually want to. It took a moment of deep breathing to relax again, to push the arousal down into a place where it was controllable, caging it with promises of how good it would feel to be full of Tony for so long.

Steve slumped forward, hanging his arms over Tony’s shoulders and went lax into his arms. Tony spun his chair back and started typing, an even, steady, soothing sound. Steve took a moment to sink into the feeling of having Tony inside him. He drifted into it, happy and safe. Tony’s hand soothed up his back between emails, and Steve sighed happily. He never felt more at home than in these moments.

He wasn’t sleepy, however, and it wasn’t long before his mind started itching for occupation. Sometimes, he was able to drift off, or at least find a dopey, dozy place while he waited for Tony to lay him down and bring him to the edge, but this time he was wide awake. He was happy, and comfortable. He had amazing hyper-awareness of every movement of Tony’s that made him feel unbelievably connected to him. But if he didn’t entertain himself in some way, soon, he’d start fidgeting and Tony would be too bothered to work.

Steve looked around, and his eyes alighted on his tablet. He’d left it on the edge of one of the desks. He peered over Tony’s shoulder. “Hey, DUM-E?” The bot raised it’s claw curiously, then whirred across the workshop. “Get me my tablet, please?”

The bot obliged with a happy hum, collecting Steve’s tablet in his claw and carrying it carefully over to the chair he and Tony shared. 

“Thank you, DUM-E!” Steve smiled at him and DUM-E managed to glow with self-satisfaction. 

Steve worked through his email, tried to read for a bit, then ended up opening one of the high-end art programs Tony had installed - or even designed, he wasn’t sure. It was incredibly powerful, and full of astonishing tools and functions, but Steve had never really taken to it. It was a steep learning curve, and he didn’t have much experience with digital art. The school had high-quality drawing tablets that anyone could use but Steve found he never had the time. And he never had the money to buy one himself.

But Tony dropped presents like trees dropped leaves in Fall, and Steve had learned to just accept them. This one, though, he hadn't used. But he needed something to occupy his mind, so learning a new skill seemed perfect. After some awkward fiddling, he figured out that if DUM-E stayed behind the chair, he could clutch the tablet in his claw at the perfect angle for Steve to reach around Tony’s neck and sketch with the stylus.

He started with a few silly doodles, and then a sketch of DUM-E himself. The more he used the program, the more he realized that it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had seemed. A lot of the controls were incredibly intuitive, and anything that wasn’t he could just poke until he figured out what it did.

After about twenty minutes, he felt he had the handle of it well enough to try something more detailed. He had the urge to try the arc reactor again. It was probably stupid, since, when he inevitably hated the result, it would skew him away from digital art forever, but he couldn’t get the image out of his mind and that usually meant he wouldn’t be able to manage anything else for the time being. Besides, if he needed a reference, it was right here in front of him.

He started close in, with the outside shape of the casing itself, then realized he could easily make the canvas bigger and add as much of Tony’s chest as he wanted to after. The more he worked, the more he fell into the freedom of working on the tablet. He felt at liberty to try things at random and see what worked out. If he didn’t like something, he could just undo it. The shape of the reactor started to form, and for the first time, he felt like he was getting the glint of the glass covering just right.

But how exactly did the lines of the triangle in the middle correspond to the metal framing around it? Moving slowly so he wouldn’t be accused of working Tony up, Steve leaned back and peered at Tony’s chest. He was wearing two shirts, a long-sleeved tee under a short-sleeved one, and the reactor was hidden from view. With a frustrated huff, Steve tugged at the fabric.

Tony chuckled. “What are you doing?”

“I want to see the reactor.”

“Okay.” Apparently, that was all the reasoning Tony needed, because he grabbed the back of his collars and pulled both shirts over his head. Steve hummed with pleasure as Tony’s chest was exposed. He raked his hands down, on either side of the reactor, tracing the lines of scars with his fingers. Tony was back to typing, hardly noticing Steve’s caress, so used to Steve’s hands on him.

The art called to him, though, so Steve set to work again, leaning over Tony’s shoulders to draw, then rocking back to get eyes on the source material. Small groans leaked from Tony’s teeth whenever Steve leaned back, but Steve hardly noticed, so sucked into his project he was.

“Steve,” Tony whispered.

Steve’s hips jerked a little at the feel of Tony’s hot breath against his ear. His stylus jolted across the page and he hastened to delete it. “What?”

“You know what, you fucking tease.” Tony’s voice was a low growl, and it radiated through Steve’s core. He’d softened while he worked, but now he was rock hard again. 

“Wha-?” Steve leaned back to catch Tony’s eye and yelped as Tony let his momentum carry him straight back, twisting the chair to the side as he moved. Steve tensed, but Tony caught him before he hit the floor, tumbling them both out of the chair. He lay Steve out flat on his back and curled over him, his cock still buried in Steve’s ass. “Oh my god,” Steve breathed.

“You can’t keep moving like that and not expect -” Tony cut himself off as he started pulling out then sliding back deep into Steve.

Steve’s head spun. The sudden change from painting to being fucked into the floor sent him reeling. His body tried to catch up, sending a rush of arousal and adrenaline through his system, He arched up into Tony on autopilot, trying to find his breath again. “God, that’s -”

Tony cut him off with a kiss. His pace increased, and it was rough and pounding, stretching Steve open and hitting him deep, setting every nerve alight. Needing something to hold on to, Steve reached up and braced his hands against the leg of the desk. The cool metal grounded him, and he came back into himself enough to curl his legs around Tony’s back and urge him harder, faster. 

Tony’s bare chest rubbed against Steve’s cock and he rocked into the sensation, every thrust setting off sparks in his cock and sizzled down to where Tony slammed against his prostate. And then - fuck - out of nowhere, he was so close. “Oh god, I’m going to come. Fuck, Tony. I’m going to come already.” He resisted the urge to wrap his hand around himself, wanting to come on Tony’s cock alone. 

Tony groaned and dropped his forehead to the centre of Steve’s chest. His rhythm didn’t falter, but Steve could feel his legs shaking and knew he was close too. He gave in to the feel of Tony inside, around him and above him, and moments later Steve was coming hard, shooting over his own shirt with a stuttered cry. 

Tony hooked his hands behind Steve’s shoulders and fucked into him relentlessly now, drawing Steve into his lap to get a better angle. Steve was only half-sensible, floating on his post-orgasm high. The way Tony moaned and panted, and his relentless pounding against Steve’s prostate, piled pleasure on top of pleasure and only served to make him more blissed out. 

Tony pulled Steve up into his lap and pressed his back against the metal leg of the desk. Steve gasped at the cold shock, clenching down, and Tony cried out. He thrust up once, twice, more and then Steve felt the hot rush filling him as Tony pulled him impossibly close and moaned through his orgasm.

Tony’s legs shook, but he managed to strip Steve’s shirt over his head, wipe him off, then gather his limp form in his arms and carry him over to the couch. He collapsed backwards with Steve cuddled up on his chest, his hand brushing through Steve’s hair soothingly. Steve hummed with pleasure, feeling sky high and out of his own body. He gripped Tony’s arm with one hand to ground him and drifted off to sleep, his cheek resting on the smooth glass surface of the arc reactor, its steady hum white noise in his ear.

Steve woke a few hours later to find Tony still asleep. He’d pulled a blanket over them, but it had slid down Steve’s back, and Steve half sat up to tug it around his shoulders again. Tony never seemed to get cold at night, capable of falling asleep alone on this couch, buck naked, without a blanket, in winter, and sleep like a baby. But he always grabbed a blanket for Steve. 

Tony was sprawled out on the couch, one arm resting on Steve’s back and the other hanging off the far end. His mouth was soft and slack, his chest rising and falling evenly. Steve watched him sleep for a while, entranced by the steady movement of his breath and the peaceful look to his dreamy expression. He had one of those moments where he was so deeply filled with love, he wasn’t sure his slight frame was enough to contain it all. 

He sat up a little further, tucked between Tony’s legs, with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The glow of the reactor filled the room, and Steve was filled with the overwhelming need to finish his work from earlier. He summoned DUM-E with a quiet command, and the bot rolled across the floor and held out the tablet he’d been obediently grasping this whole time.

“Good boy,” Steve whispered, and DUM-E did the electronic equivalent of preening. Steve guided the tablet into the right position, then went back to work. Now that he saw Tony in the peaceful calm and shadowy still of the workshop at night, he knew that’s what he wanted to emulate in his art. He played with filters and tones for over an hour, trying to cast it into the right light. It was hard, but every now and then he’d manage to get something just right and the thrill of creation well done warmed his insides. 

Every time he paused to stretch out his wrist, he’d arch up and flex too, allowing himself to feel the pleasing soreness in his ass. When he shifted, he could feel a trickle of Tony’s come leaking out of his hole, and it was nearly enough to get him hard again. He reveled in the double sensation of feeling fucked out and satisfied by his art, all bathed in the soft heat of the love he felt for the man under him.

He worked through the night, barely noticing the passage of time, except with minor irritation as the morning started to creep in and mess with his perfect shadows. Finally, Steve added the last highlights to his work and zoomed out to view the whole thing. It was Tony’s torso, the hint of a bare line of skin above his waistband just peeking through, and his biceps disappearing into inevitable long arms hanging off the edge of the digital canvas. The reactor was the centre of the piece, bathing everything, including the sharp edge of Tony’s jaw and it’s perfectly groomed beard, in its unique, blue glow. He had captured peace, somehow, wound through with the vibrant, electric  _ aliveness  _ that the reactor represented. 

Steve held the tablet out next to his model and smiled. It was perfect - it was exactly what he was trying to capture. Something inside his chest settled, a fluttering moth jerking around between his lungs finally calmed, sated, as he satisfied his creative imperative.

He tilted the screen of the tablet and it caught the blue light. Steve grinned down at the man he loved and prepared to wake him with a wild flurry of kisses, surely earning him a smile, a laugh, a whispered,  _ I love you.  _

He set the tablet aside. It was perfect, exactly what he wanted, but it still had nothing on the real thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Book 2 "Some Form of Electricity" starts with chapter one next Sunday <3


End file.
